


Another Man's Treasure

by Villain



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: Anal Sex, Gang Rape, M/M, Multi, dubcon, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Villain/pseuds/Villain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The generals have their way with Hephaistion when Alexander isn't looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Man's Treasure

_Another Man’s Treasure_

 

“Have another drink, Hephaistion.”

“I have yet to drink my first,” he answered wryly. The men pressed in around him. He hated their pity, but he hated what else lurked in their eyes even more. Foul liquid passed between them and Hephaistion glanced at the pitch blackness outside. They had been merrymaking for well over four hours now, and drink had flowed continuously. He’d already had to fend off several attempted gropes by Cleitus, and Cassander was lazily kissing the hollow of his throat. Other wandering hands glided steadily over his golden skin.

Cassander moved his arm across Hephaistion’s chest and pulled the man closer. Hephaistion stiffened, but Cleitus moved in on his other side, effectively barring him from moving down the couch. The others chortled deep in their throats and the mezmerizing eyes of the king’s greatest treasure widened. Cassander leaned up and pressed his mouth to the shell of the brunette’s ear; “Give yourself to another, Hephaistion... Alexander-”

“Do not speak of him,” Hephaistion ground out, his breathing haggard as Cassander’s hand wandered up his thigh. He grabbed the general’s wrist, but a strong hand caught his arm and pushed it back. Cleitus. “What-?”

“Greedy Hephaistion,” he cooed, rancid breath stinking of wine. His grip on Hephaistion tightened. Blue eyes stared up at him. Through the slight haze of drunkenness, Cleitus could see no fear in those eyes. He saw confusion and the barest signs of anger. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the surrounding men echoed his consent with low murmurs. Hands caressed the sides of Hephaistion’s face, a coarse thumb ran over soft lips. Cassander moved, drawing Hephaistion’s face around to him. Cleitus licked his lips as Cassander leaned in, the rest of the generals silent in anticipation. Cassander barely brushed Hephasition’s mouth before the brunette tore way, whipping out his arm to strike at the closest of them.

In a reaction appropriate to them, the generals moved in swiftly, each one grabbing at a limb. Hephaistion struggled violently, lashing out right and left. Cassander stepped back, predatory gaze glinting as the rest of the group forcefully subdued Hephaistion. When Hephaistion settled, his chest heaving with quick breaths, Cassander came forward, reaching up to undo the clasps of his robe. Hephaistion emitted a tiny sound, one seemingly of frustration as Cassander moved closer. The others shifted aside, never lessening their grip, as Cassander knelt over Hephaistion and brushed the hair from his face. “You must long for someone’s touch. Alexander-” for the first time, Hephaistion winced “-has a new amusement, and a wife to keep his interests.” He buried his nose in Hephaistion’s hair and breathed deep. “The greatest offense that our brash king has commited is leaving such a beautiful creature unattended...”

“Bastards,” Hephaistion seethed, clenching his fists tightly in subtle defiance as Cleitus pulled his clothes from his body. Numerous pairs of eyes clawed over his form, and Hephiastion could feel the painful grooves inflicted by their piercing eyes. “Stop,” he said, teeth clenched tightly enough to send shooting pain over his crown. “You don the guise of honorable men-”

“But still, we are men,” Nearchus growled, tangling his fingers in brown hair, the twined ropes soft in his hands. “Men claim what they desire.”

Hephaistion regarded him cooly, “You are all swine.”

Cleitus grasped his chin roughly and turned his face up so that their gazes met. His cold edged stare was met with measured boldness. “Hephaistion,” he said, “We are comrades in arms. We share the world--why not share yourself? Have we not been through enough together? Let us enjoy you-”

“You rape a comrade. Treat your comrade like a common whore. If Alex-” he bit his tongue, ashamed. Cassander appeared before him, a coiled serpent prepared to strike. A long finger trailed down his cheek and Hephaistion closed his eyes against it. Cassander’s voice, dissembodied and deceivingly sultry, brushed over his face.

“Finish.” Cassander lightly slapped him. “Cry to him, Hephaistion. He will not come. He lies in the embrace of that Persian whore--”

“Cowards,” he hissed, brilliant eyes springing open. “How many of you? And only me. Cowards, and nothing else. You call yourselves men, but you are not worthy of any title but rats.”

“Makes no difference what we are to you,” Cleitus spoke above the outburst from the group. “Now don’t force us to hurt you, Hephaistion. Another word and I’ll silence you.”

“May Hades supp on the dregs of your souls,” Hephaistion called before Cleitus jerked him up. Their faces were nearly touching.

“I’d almost think you wanted this, boy,” Cleitus hissed. He made to kiss Hephaistion, but the brunette twisted, cursing at the pawing, gripping hands holding him down.

“Unless you want your tongue severed, do not kiss me. And anything else put in my mouth will not leave whole,” Hephaistion threatened, voice haggard with fear and caged anger. His eyes swiveled back to Cleitus’s face, and he saw an expression of utmost mirth over the older man’s features, his countenance spilling the idea of knowing amusement. “What?” he spat.

Cleutis continued to smile, and his smile spread onto the other men’s faces. Cassander withdrew a cloth from his side pouch and handed it over. Cleitus partook in the wild and appalled anger coming in waves off of Hephaistion.

“Fine,” he said, chortling easily as he wrestled Hephaistion’s clenched jaw open with forceful hands. “Than we’ll seal it off.” He managed to work the cloth in and jerked it back hard enough so that Hephaistion made a small sound, and tied the knot securely. “We don’t want to hurt you, Hephaistion. But we will have you.”

Muffled curses and other unpleasantries poured from behind the makeshift gag, but was met with no laughter or jeers. The men observed the great king’s prize, confined now solely to their company. They watched muscles ripple under taught skin, bathed gold and shadowed by flickering candles all over the room. One of the generals extended a hand to draw it over Hephaistion’s quivering stomach. He gently traced the outlined ribs and tweaked a hard nipple. The rest of them came forward, all solemn and intent. Their hands soon decorated almost every inch of exposed skin. And as the men fondled and caressed their lust’s aim, Cassander and Cleitus sat by and watched.

More clothing fell from Hephaistion’s frame, and still he fought vailiantly, until his wrists were bound and legs tied down. Many of the men were panting as Hephaistion’s naked body writhed and pulled against his bindings, sinewy form twisting erotically in the candelight. Hephaistion knew the stares he receieved from the hauntings of his childhood, and he did not welcome them. Driven lust could be an ugly thing, unless he was seared by the burnt gaze of Alexander. He would accept no other lustful eyes. He struggled to shape words behind the gag, to somehow formulate a plea that would rescue him from this fleshy peril. He beseeched each of them individually, his eyes reaching into the depths clouded by carnal desire. And yet not one ever bowed from his stare, and less still gave under the  guilt.

Cleitus had known of Hephaistion’s beauty before many of his comrades. Being Philip’s favorite and years ahead in age, Cleitus could remember watching the young boys wrestling and training. It was the King who had first brought Hephaistion to his attention. Often he would make suggestive remarks about the boy. And he had been a beautiful boy, one who had grown into a veritable god. Cleitus never harbored any resentement toward Alexander or Hephaistion because of their affair, not like Cassander vehemently did. But that in no way meant that he had not felt lust for Hephaistion which reached a physical yearning. Several times in battle he’d nearly been cut down, distracted by the sight of the young general in the midst of a fight. It was clear that the man lived and fought for Alexander. Cleitus clenched his fists. They were losing their king, and Cleitus knew Hephaistion was the only thing anchoring Alexander in reality.

He moved between the men, gently pushing them aside until they all stood as trembling pillars along Hephaistion's body. Cleitus unabashedly lowered his hand to cup the limp cock between the muscled legs. The brunette breathed loudly through his teeth, eyes clenched shut, entire body taught as a wire. Rubbing and pinching, Clietus dragged his gaze over every muscle standing out with utmost concentration. The rest of the men were becoming impatient; he could see it in their eyes. They looked as they did moments before battle. Even if at that point any of them felt remorse, it had gone too far to turn back.

"I suppose you're right, Hephaistion," he murmured. "It is rather cowardly for our stronger many to force ourselves upon your weaker one. But if we have your consent, our collective conscience will be clear." Cassander appeared at his side, and before he could demand to know what Cleitus was thinking, the bigger general swooped down, moving his hand harder against Hephaistion's still dormant member. "Your body's consent will be enough," he said, and the others caught on, grinning as they began to stimulate the writhing form below them. One bent his head over a nipple, lightly biting the raised flesh. Behind the gag Hephaistion moaned and cursed them, his fierce eyes flashing in the flickering candlelight.

Cassander stood back from the group, surprised by Cleitus's clever solution. He would never regret this, but it would be easier for the rest of them to see some evidence of pleasure from Hephaistion. Not to mention the delicious guilt and anger Hephaistion will suffer at the betrayal of his body, which above all else obeyed the laws of nature. In this vital match, lust overcame sense. Smirking, Cassander continued to watch the beautiful general unravel as three soldiers lavished attention upon his cock. Shortly he'd be begging them to ravish him. Nothing could be more maddeningly arousing than that in Cassander's mind. His own erection twitched in anticipation. He'd have him first. They all knew that Cassander would mount Hephaistion before everyone else, and he slowly stroked himself, imagining the condensed heat of Hephaistion's passageway, practically untouched but by their distracted king.

Suddenly Cleitus barked an order and every soldier drew sharply back, leaving Hephaistion alone in the center. They all stood in awed silence, appraising their efforts, and waiting.

Hephaistion's golden skin was streaked with sweat, his eyes rolling back into his head as his hips wantonly arched into the air. He twisted his wrists savagely in their binds, moaning erotically behind the gag, trying to spread his legs. If possible, his muscles were even more tense than before, but the only part of him that really received their apt attention was the straining erection standing out from his groin.

Cleitus was the first to laugh, turning his twinkling gaze to Cassander. "Gentlemen," he granted amicably, "It is time for the wolves to feast."

And the men raised their voices, eagerly watching as Cassander came forward, hand lazily stroking himself. Just then Hephaistion's eyes fixed on him and seemed to realize what had just transpired. His chest heaved, and he fought his bindings desperately, angry retorts muffled by the cloth in his mouth, but made quite clear by the look of black rage boiling in his eyes. Cassander had never witnessed a more enticing sight, and he knelt down over the general, moving his hands over the glistening skin, pressing his face into the hollow of the long neck. He inhaled Hephaistion's scent. Sweat, sunlight, faintly of oils and charcoal. He breathed in deeply, dropping the rest of his body. The shock of contact dazed him, and he rubbed bodily against Hephaistion, brimming with heat and need. Then he raised himself to look down into the burning depths of Hephaistion's eyes, forgetting the baying soldiers at his side and everything else but the feeling of the man beneath him. Cassander radiated the heat of lust, and for the first time there was a lick of fear in the blue eyes staring up at him. That quickened him further.

Ripping the binds free of Hephiastion's ankles, he shoved the shapely legs apart, slamming down between them, uttering a ragged cry as their erections collided. Hephaistion threw his head to the side helplessly as Cassander attacked his neck, biting and sucking while digging his fingers down between parted thighs. Already slicked by sweat, his fingers found Hephaistion's entrance easily enough, and he began to stretch the brunette, never once breaking his gaze from Hephaistion's pained eyes.

Unable to wait any longer, he took himself in hand and positioned his burning cock against the prepared entrance. Hephaistion thrashed wildly, kept in check by the helping hands of the other generals. Cassander smiled and thrust, shouting as molten pressure embraced him, Hephaistion's thighs tightening atutomatically on his sides. And the expression on Hephaistion's face was of such anguish. A short cry burst from behind the cloth.

He thrust hard, snarling as his cock pounded Hephaistion's insides. His sense had fled and the animalistic lust overcame him. His hands like claws dug into the slender hips, yanking Hephaistion back with every thrust. He snapped his hips back and forth, breath crowding his ears, echoed by Hephaistion's keening cries. As if trying to sink through the golden flesh, Cassander stretched himself along the brunnete, thrusting madly, his mouth jarred next to Hephaistion's ear. One hand twisted in the thick hair and pulled, roughly exposing Hephaistion's throat.

"I've wanted this," he panted, grinding harder into the general, "For so long. To mount you, conquer you." With every word he delivered another merciless thrust. "Feel me, Hephaistion. Feel. Every. Inch." He sank his teeth into Hephaistion's shoulders, pistoning into the body beneath him hard enough to bruise his hips. The heat swirling in him seemed to focus into a white point. He yelled, nails scratching grooves into the generals hips.

Hephaistion twisted under him, breathy cries becoming louder, more desperate as Cassander pounded the spot inside of him that blasted light across his vision.

Determined to see Hephaistion when he released, Cassander gritted his teeth, thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak. Harder, harder he thrust, killing Hephaistion with his cock, impaling him again and again as if he sought to rip the man apart.

And Hephaistion received him, lifting his hips with every thrust, entire body arched off the ground.

With a few more thrusts, which Hephaistion roughly returned, Cassander cursed, driving harder until his crest peaked and he came crashing down, eyes boaring into Hephaistion's face. Collapsing over the general, spent and aching, Cassander moaned, still thrusting slowly, his cock alive with sensation as Hephaistion's passage continued to spasm and tighten with his release. Then hard hands dropped onto his shoulders. Cleitus.

"My friend," the big man panted, eyes glazed over with lust. "That..." He laughed deep, rubbing his own painfully hard cock as Cassander weakly raised himself, sliding out of Hephaistion with a wince.

Leaning over the brunette, Cleitus stroked one side of his face, waiting until blue eyes tiredly met his. "I am going to have you deep," he assured the exausted man, ignoring the weakly moaned protest. Hephaistion was too tired to struggle as Cleitus rolled him onto his stomach and spread him wide. "You're open enough," he said, voice strained. "I have no patience to wait for your comfort." Lips drawn back over his teeth, he slapped Hephaistion across his backside, satisfied with the short cry from behind the gag and a tightening of the man's entrance. "Hold me close, boy," he warned. "You are a soldier, give as much as you receive." And with those words, he plunged forward, and with one great thrust buried himself completely. Hephaistion screamed, voice still muffled by cloth. Cleitus, growing still, gripped the smaller man's hips and jerked him up so that Hephaistion sat back against him, legs spread down on either side of Cleitus's knees.

Grabbing trembling upper thighs, Cleitus forced Hephaistion wider, teeth digging at his shoulder, anchoring the man's upper body. Hephaistion trembled against him, bruises blooming over his hips and darkening around his wrists.

"Has Alexander ever taken you from behind, like a whore?" he hissed, starting to move with great jarring thrusts upward, huge cock pumping into the tiny passage.

Hephaistion cried out helplessly every time Cleitus slammed into him. His entire body rocked with the big general's force. The harsh words barely made it past the unyielding spell of pleasure laced with pain, and the greater agony of humiliation riding the edge of his lust. But he still heard them. They sobered him, and he felt the smile against the back of his neck as Cleitus noticed the anxious tensing of his spine.

His question resulted in a tightening around his cock. "Does he look into your pretty face when he takes you?" His thrusts were measured, but strong. He knew each time he pushed in, all the way to the hilt, that he filled the slender general completely, rubbing against the spot inside that made small breathy sounds escape. Reaching up, he tore the gag free, roughly turning Hephaistion's face to him and biting at swollen lips. "Imagine him, Hephaistion," he purred, twisting an erect nipple hard enough that Hephaistion flinched. His thighs burned with the effort to keep thrusting, entire body on fire to push faster, harder. But he restrained himself, wanting Hephaistion to finish this.

"His golden hair brushing over your chest, his callused fingers controlling you, bending you to his will." His thrusts slowed further, and Hephaistion's eyes rolled shut, mouth hanging open. "And his gaze worshipping you, his Patroclus..."

"No... I-" Hephaistion squirmed, brows furrowing as he fought Cleitus's hold as strong arms wrapped around him, a treatherous mouth breathing over his ear.

"You before him, spreading yourself open for him. And he mounts you as he would a wife." His words were destroying the last of Hephaistion's strength. A thin hand, still bound by cloth, touched Cleitus's hip. The general grinned wolfishly, thumb rubbing over the wet tip of Hephaistion's erection.

"Oh," Hephaistion moaned, eyes shut tightly as Cleitus whispered to him.

"He takes you hard, riding you deep and long," he continued, hand softly moving over a heaving chest, other hand gripped firmly around the man's weeping cock. "Tell me, Hephaistion."

"Yes," he hissed, "He takes me..." His words blended into a sharp scream as Cleitus sprang to life and thrust once into him, hard enough to lift him into the air. The surprising rush of pleasure caught him off guard. Shaken, he scrambled to remain conscious as Cleitus stilled within him, his body convulsing in protest. "Ahn."

When the small frame moved against him, Cleitus considered the battle half won. He wrapped his arms around Hephaistion's waist and held the general still. Then with practiced control he moved bare inches in and out of Hephaistion at a crawling pace. "Patroclus," he beseeched, "You have wronged your Achilles."

"Never," Hephaistion pleaded, shaking his head wildly, eyes still pressed shut.

"But you have been breached by others. You're soiled, unclean." His fingers curled against the man's used entrance and brought them to Hephaistion's lips. "Taste your betrayal."

The general came to sudden life, twisting and shouting. Cleitus caught sight of wetness at the corners of the blue eyes, now open and angry. Losing patience with his own teasing, Cleitus shoved Hephaistion forward, coming over top of him to pound into the body, shaking with anger and frustration. Cleitus held Hephaistion's face down, hand dominantly gripping the back of the man's neck. And he released his pent up lust, taunted by his own games to the point where he strained to push every fiber of himself into Hephiastion, tearing out completely and rentering with a fierce snarl, watching as Hephaistion's broken body swallowed him up again. Arching his back, legs curling forward until he rested on the balls of his feet, Cleitus let Hephaistion feel his full power, bellowing as he claimed him.

Hephaistion's body thrummed with fire, tension, pain, and the sharp pleasure that was too much to handle. Cleitus split him in two, and Hephaistion's  cries were choked into silence with the force of the onslaught.

Grinding into the hot body, Cleitus growled like an animal, ripping into Hephaistion for a few more thrusts as his release overtook him in blinding heat. When he finished he did not linger as Cassander had. He tore out immediately and fell back as the next soldier took his place. None of the others hesitated to find a quick release, too excited by the erotic sight of the generals plundering Alexander's treasure. 

When they were finally sated and drunk on pleasure, the men slipped back to their rooms, some with partners, others alone. Only Cassander and Cleitus remained with Hephaistion.

The brunette's jaw was clenched so tight Cleitus feared he'd break it. His eyes were listless, and bruises littered his body. Blood and semen trailed down his thighs, and his hair was tangled and matted. Cassander ran his fingers through the heavy ropes of hair, making half an attempt to loosen them.

"Should we call one of the servants to see to him?" he asked, eyes never leaving Hephaistion's beautiful face, now shadowed by exaustion and underlying pain that must run deep.

"Our hands which have injured him must care for him," Cleitus said. "Our king will be distracted for a few more days, what with his new wife and the attentions of the Persian whore." He glanced at Hephaistion in time to catch sign of a tear rolling slowly from one eye.

Cassander felt anger heat beneath his brow. "You'll go back to him," he accused Hephaistion, wanting to wrap the man in his arms. "You'll bow to his every whim and let him use you-"

Hephaistion slapped his hand away, the adreneline of pain and rage compelling his body up until he stood swaying on his feet. His eyes looked dead back at his rapists. "He may be all you charge him of, but I take his abuse with love." He started to stagger out, still proud in his dishevelled state.

Cassander sat up, about to follow. But Cleitus held him back, his black eyes impassive.

"Alexander can't possibly realize what he has," he murmured in amazement.

"So you think this was a success?" Cassander stretched next to him like a cat, though his eyes were more like a serpent's as he turned to regard Cleitus seriously. "You really think this will drive him closer to Alexander?"

"Yes. We drove him further into his chosen prison. Now he will attend to Alexander with even more love and abandon, born now out of desperation, too. His unending and unconditional devotion is the only thing that will keep Alexander sane. We can only hope that Hephaistion will turn this wound we've opened in him into some force stronger than Alexander's madness."

Cassander looked back at the doorway. "And if anything happens to Hephaistion? What then?"

Cleitus sighed. "Then the mighty lion must be slain by the serpent." Cassander met his eyes with confusion, but Cleitus only shook his head, relaxing back in the cushions to seek sleep.


End file.
